


in the land of gods and monsters

by deadcellredux



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Alcohol, Crimes & Criminals, Genderfluid/non-binary character, Hedonism, Meta, Moral Ambiguity, Other, POV Second Person, Pre-Canon, the original opera floozies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/pseuds/deadcellredux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s your name?” Setzer asks, one slim, pale finger lifting strands of your hair away from your face.</p><p>“Daryl,” you manage to pant, and after that moment, your life changes completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the land of gods and monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinamachina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinamachina/gifts).



> Written for the following prompt: _Born-female!Setzer, fic or art. Suggested pairings (optional): Daryl (genderswitched or not), Edgar, Locke or Celes. Plot ideas: Faris-type situation with a woman posing as a man, traveling the world, navigating the underworld and and wooing opera singers._
> 
> I fell in love with this prompt as soon as I saw it; not only do I love this sort of trope in general, but my headcanon Daryl and Setzer are queer, and I never considered the concept of FAAB Setzer! I hope you enjoy what I've done with this prompt, I can't begin to tell you how much I loved writing it! I only wish that I'd have had more time to delve deeper into this. Enjoy! <3 <3

You first see the Wanted poster while you’re huddled in an alley in the backstreets of Jidoor, chest heaving, breath ragged in your throat. Against your chest, you clutch a bag of stolen produce and some discarded ends of bread-- with luck, some of the fruit won’t be rotten, and some of the bread won’t be so stale that you cut your gums when biting into it. Your friends will be thrilled with your haul regardless, but right now you’re more concerned about the fact that some market guards are on your tail.

You stare at the poster while you try to catch your breath, studying the sketch of this now-infamous criminal. Setzer Gabbiani, wandering thief, wanted on the basis of extortion and fraud. You wonder if they’ve rigged the auctions or stolen valuable pieces of art. Maybe they’ve even been to the opera.

As your breath settles, you lean in closer to inspect the face on the poster. It’s hard to tell, really, who this person even is; long hair obscures an angular face and sly features; the visible corner of their lips curves up in a smile. Scars cross their face, and you wonder what sorts of stories they can tell.

You wonder if it’s healthy to be admiring a criminal on a wanted poster, but to you, in your current state, this is truly the equivalent of fame.

You freeze and press yourself against the wall of the alley as you hear the growing volume of shouting and rapid footsteps approach you. You recognize the voices as belonging to the market guards, and…

you stop holding your breath when they finally pass, having not opted to peek down the narrow, dark alley in which you’ve hidden. You laugh out of sheer relief, hug your stolen parcel tightly, and begin to make your way back home, through the shadows.

\+ + + + +

Your crew gets daring and ambitious, and you hunt for bigger stakes. You’re never going to rise up in this world if you don’t take risks, and when you snag your target-- a diamond-studded bangle set to go up for auction-- you almost can’t believe that you’ve pulled it off.

You’re stowed away with one of your friends in the basement of the auction house, and you pull out the bangle to examine it.

“I can’t believe it!” Jeff exclaims, and runs his fingers over where the bangle is draped across your palm. “We’re gonna be rich!”

“You bet,” you laugh, and count the number of diamonds in the bangle. “Six,” you say, leaning your face close to Jeff to press your forehead against his. “Six diamonds! Do you know what we can do with the profit from six diamonds?”

“Rule the world?” he muses. “Well, okay, we’re not gonna rule the world, but perhaps maybe… buy a mansion? A boat? Get stock in some of those fancy machines the Empire’s working on?”

“We’ll see,” you say, and stuff the bangle back into its velvet pouch. “Right now, we gotta get out of here. We’ll figure it out tomorrow, how about that?”

When you look at Jeff this time, you notice that his expression has slackened into wide-eyed shock. You turn to follow his gaze behind you, and you’ve _no idea_ how these people have snuck up on you un-noticed, and _holy stars is that_

“Setzer?” you blurt out.

The person looming over you looks shocked, then confused, then pleased. It _has_ to be Setzer; from the hair to the smile to the garish clothing, this is everything you’ve imagined from those wanted posters. But then--

Setzer’s got you by the cuff of your shirt, twisting so that your collar is, in effect, beginning to strangle you. In your efforts to reach up and shove your fingers in between the shrinking space between fabric and your throat, you drop the velvet pouch, and Jeff, instead of grabbing it, turns tail and runs off out of sight.

“You should choose your friends a bit better,” Setzer says, smiling, and nods in the direction of their cronies, one of whom quickly scoops up the pouch. “You mind telling me what you’re doing invading upon my territory?”

You can’t speak, because you can’t breathe. You flail desperately, choking, and squeeze your eyes shut. The space behind your eyelids begins to go black and fuzzy before Setzer finally releases you, and you fall to the floor, shamelessly gasping for breath.

“Didn’t know-- it was-- your territory,” you gasp. “Just trying… to eat.”

There is silence for a few seconds as vision and breath return to you, and then Setzer is kneeling besides you, leaning down to look you in the eye. Up close, they are just as angular and beautiful as the wanted posters suggest; scars trailing a strange sort of cartography over their face. Their clothing is ornate; almost _too_ decorative for the trappings of a criminal.

“What’s your name?” Setzer asks, one slim, pale finger lifting strands of your hair away from your face.

“Daryl,” you manage to pant, and after that moment, your life changes completely.

\+ + + + + 

You never thought that you’d be accepted into the inner circle of a high-ranking criminal, much less one whose biggest-heist-as-of-late you’d foiled. Setzer, however, is non-threatening and amicable, and you soon realize that they are as little of a threat to you as you are to them. If you’d have refused to join, Setzer would’ve let you go scott-free. Intimidation was just part of the act. They must like you a hell of a lot, because soon you’re privy to all of the inside scoop.

“I’ve got some friends in high places,” Setzer says, tossing a coin. “I keep them entertained, and they keep me safe, y’know?”

“You mean the Empire?” you ask.

“Yup. Bunch of morons, really.” Setzer shrugs. “As long as they have a place to gamble, they keep their mouths shut. Not sure how I feel about it, but…” Setzer sighs, and catches the coin. “They didn’t like the fact that I had independent success, so they tried to paint me as a criminal. Had no choice, really, but to get it all government moderated.” An eyeroll. ” But them’s the breaks, eh?”

“Drinks?” comes a voice, and oh, right, you never thought that you’d be in the company of a famous opera singer, either. Maria strolls out onto the deck of the airship, in an outfit which leaves quite little to the imagination. If one could even _call_ it an outfit.

“Thank you, my dear,” Setzer purrs, and takes a glass full of liquor that Maria offers. “You’re wonderful. Lovely.” Maria leans in for a kiss, and Setzer grants one upon her lips. “One day I’ll kidnap you, and it’ll make headlines.” Maria giggles, and Setzer pulls her close with an arm around her waist. “We’ll be extra-famous. We’ll make a show of it.” 

You raise your own glass to your mouth to take a sip, and realize that it’s empty. Maria notices, and holds out her own glass to you.

“Daryl, right?” she asks, smiling warmly, and you nod. “You seem like a good kid. Setzer needs someone to keep him grounded. You’ll do a good job of that, I can tell.” She giggles again, and then sighs as Setzer pulls her in to press a kiss to her neck.

You’re feeling a bit hot, though the breeze up here is cool, and you begin to wonder exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into. You take a large swig from the glass you’ve been handed, and try to focus on the effects of the alcohol instead of the choices you’ve apparently made with your life. You’re up in the air, on an airship, with criminals and opera singers and apparently _lovers_ , and now you’re not quite sure what Setzer _is_ , because Maria called him _he_ , but you’re not entirely sure that’s correct--

“You okay over there?” Setzer asks, and Maria steps out of his grasp so he can walk towards you. “We can drop you off, if you’d like. Had enough of a hedonistic tour for now?”

“I’m fine,” you say, and idly swirl the liquor in your glass so that the ice cubes clink around. I just wonder…”

“I’m heading off of to bed,” Maria says, almost if on cue, and waves. You wave back and she disappears below deck. Setzer is in front of you now, slightly taller, and smelling faintly of cologne and tobacco. Something about the scent makes you shiver.

“You wonder… what?”

“I wonder what now,” you say. “and I also wonder… if you’re a man or not.”

Setzer lets out a guffaw. “What now, she says! Well, you tell me. You can stay aboard my ship, or I can drop you off at home. But I’ll tell you right now-- I like you. There’s something about you, and it’s not just the way you can swindle like an expert at cards.”

You look up with a start, and Sezter winks. You’d played some poker and blackjack when he’d first taken you aboard, and you’d hoped that he’d simply attribute your winning streak to luck.

“You’ve got a great poker face. I like that in a lady. And as for your other question… well, I’m female, technically. As for the non-technical, well… who’s to say, really?”

You decide that this is enough of an answer, though you’d never imagined that you’d feel as such. A sort of calmness settles over you, like a welcoming cloud, as you accept the fact that you find Setzer very, very attractive, regardless.

You change the subject back to the earlier topic at hand. “I don’t want you to drop me off,” you begin, and Setzer raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have a home anyway. Live on the streets, as you know. Have some unreliable friends, as you _also_ know. But I’d like to move up, somehow… I’d like to make a name for myself. I hate Jidoor, sometimes, but I also love it, in the sense that I’d like to… rule it. Somewhat.”

“You and I are quite similar,” Setzer says, and sips their drink. “Would you have guessed that I come from nothing?”

You shake your head, because no, you wouldn’t have.

“Like I was saying, you gotta do what you gotta do. Have to sell out sometimes, if it means you get somewhere. As long as stay yourself inside, well… they can’t take _that_ away from you.” 

You nod. “The lesser of two evils. I supposed I’d do the same, given the opportunity.”

“You’d have no choice.” Setzer turns so that their back is against the railing of the airship, and the wind catches their hair, long and shining impossibly silver in the moonlight. “This world is full of gods and monsters,” Setzer, turning their head to look at you, “and neither of them are to be trusted.”

“Agreed,” you say, and look out into the darkness, at the stars like tiny pinpricks in a vast and open sky.

“I could kiss you,” Setzer says, and takes a step closer. 

“You could,” you say, and though you’re not entirely surprised by this suggestion at this current point in time, your voice sounds so very, very small against the thunderous backdrop of your suddenly pounding heart.

When Setzer leans in and presses their lips to yours, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before; it’s like nothing you’ve ever _desired_ before.

Setzer takes you to their quarters on the Blackjack-- overly extravagant, of course-- and does things to you with their fingers and tongue that you’ve never once in your life imagined possible.

\+ + + + +

In the morning, you lie tangled together in bed, and you contemplate your life as Setzer snores.

You could definitely get used to this.

When Setzer wakes, you conspire over your next heist and your next swindle, how perhaps you could man the card tables on the Blackjack and cheat a little bit of money out of the Empire patrons. 

You’ve got your eye on something bigger, as well, and when you tell Setzer, they laugh.

“Your own airship? Well, that’ll take a lot. Prove to me that you deserve one,” Setzer says.

“You already know I do,” you retort, “and I’d love to see you build one.”

“Tell me, then,” Setzer asks, in between kisses trailed down your neck and shoulder, “what the world needs with _two_ premiere airships?”

“I’ll race you,” you sigh, and tug on Setzer’s hair so that they meet your lips for a kiss, “and I’ll win.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Setzer says, and pulls you in for another, and your body and brain both go hazy after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Some inspiration for this fic came from the song [Gods & Monsters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HKA3HaOzbg) by Lana Del Rey -- [lyrics here](http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107859442909/).


End file.
